Authors: Kate Kingsbury
Herald of Death (28 page)
“Sorry. I had to talk to Clive for a moment.”
Pansy immediately brightened. “What for?”
“Never you mind.”
“Did you give him the wicks last night?”
“Yes,” Gertie said, as she hauled the pile of tablecloths into a basket. “I gave them to him.”
Pansy waited in vain for the rest of the story. When Gertie didn’t elaborate, she prompted her with an impatient, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“And?”
“And, what?” Gertie nodded at the cupboard. “We need those serviettes, too.”
Frustrated, Pansy pulled the serviettes down from the shelf. “Didn’t he say anything?”
“Who?”
Now she was getting annoyed. “You know who.
Clive
.”
Clive
.”
“Oh, him. Yeah. He said thank you.”
Pansy uttered a sigh of exasperation. “Is that all?”
Gertie frowned. “What was he supposed to say?”
Throwing caution to the wind, Pansy flung the serviettes in the basket. “Don’t you even
know
he likes you?”
know
he likes you?”
Gertie picked up the basket and settled it on her hip. “Yeah, I know. I like him, too. So bloody what?”
“No, I mean
like
you. Like he’s in love with you.”
like
you. Like he’s in love with you.”
Gertie uttered a scornful laugh. “You’ve got your head too bloody full of Samuel, that’s what. Clive and I are just friends, that’s all. That’s all we want to be, so don’t go thinking there’s anything else to it, all right?”
She barged out of the room, shoving the door open with her elbow. Pansy followed, shaking her head. She knew Gertie. She knew all that blustering was to cover up what she was truly feeling and thinking.
It was going to take a lot longer than she’d thought to get those two together, but if Gertie thought she was going to give up this easily, then her friend was mistaken. Clive and Gertie were perfect for each other, and if it took Pansy Watson to prove it to them, then so be it.
Someday she would think of the right plan. A foolproof plan. Maybe she’d ask Samuel to help her. The thought brightened her considerably, and her step was light as she made her way back to the kitchen.
Cecily was relieved to find Madeline alone with her baby when she and Samuel arrived there. The doctor, it seemed, was on his rounds.
“He won’t be home until suppertime,” Madeline said, laying Angelina down in her cot. “I’m putting a joint of roast beef in the oven. That man has a voracious appetite for someone so slender.”
Cecily offered the baby her thumb, and smiled when Angelina grasped it with tiny fingers. “Kevin works a long day.”
“Yes, he does.” Madeline walked over to the settee and sat down.
Cecily sat down next to her, and beckoned Samuel to take one of the armchairs. “I’m glad he’s not here. There’s something I need to talk to you about and . . .”
“It’s something he shouldn’t hear.”
Cecily sighed. “I know he doesn’t believe in your powers, or agree with your methods of healing. It must be so hard to keep such an important part of your life separate from him.”
Madeline tilted her head on one side. “You came here to talk about my husband?”
“No, of course not.” Cecily hesitated, then added, “It was the way he looked at you when you left the other night. After you told us that Colonel Fortescue was in the woods. I worried there might be repercussions from that.”
Madeline smiled. “No, Kevin didn’t say a word. Would it have made a difference if he had?”
“Perhaps. I sometimes feel that I cause contention between the two of you by relying on your powers so much.”
“Oh, bosh!” Madeline flapped a hand at her. “Kevin knew about my interest in healing herbs and potions long before he asked me to marry him. We may not always see eye to eye on matters of medicine, but it’s not a huge conflict between us.”
“But what about . . . you know . . . the trances and other things like that?”
Madeline pursed her lips. “Ah well, the less he knows about that, the better. So far he has seen only glimpses of what I can do, and that’s the way I hope to keep it.”
“Well, I certainly shan’t enlighten him.” Cecily stretched out her feet and studied her boots.
“Is that what you want from me now? I told you I can’t see much beyond the darkness when I try to see the Christmas Angel.”
“No, it’s not that.” Cecily looked up. “I think I have found the link between the murders.” She paused, then added, “Madeline, you mentioned the other day that there are certain spells associated with locks of hair from the deceased.”
Madeline sent a swift look at Samuel before answering. “I did.”
“It’s all right,” Cecily said. “Samuel knows all about this. He’s here to help.”
“I don’t know everything,” Samuel said, looking worried.
“I’m coming to that.” Cecily turned back to her friend. “Is there, by any chance, a ritual that involves burning the hair?”
The loud tick of a clock was the only sound in the room for several moments. Then Angelina stirred and whimpered, and Madeline got up. She bent over the cot, settling her daughter again before returning to the couch.
“Yes, there is. The hair is burned to ensure that the soul goes to hell.”
Cecily drew in a sharp breath. “Ah, I thought it might be something like that. One more thing. I saw a strange carving the other day. It looked like a wagon wheel, with gems at the end of each spoke. The jewels were in the shape of cats. Does that sound significant to you?”
Madeline raised her eyebrows. “Where did you see this?”
“In my suspect’s house.”
“Then I’d say your suspect is engaged in some kind of occult activity. The wheel, or ring, is the major symbol. It protects everything inside it and can represent many things—woman, the circle of life, the wheel of fortune among others. The cat jewels are also protection, and can also represent prophecy, and the granting of wishes.”
“As I expected.” Cecily shook her head. “I don’t know how I could have been so blind.” She leaned forward. “Madeline, I have something to ask of you. I would not involve you unless it were imperative that I do so. We need your help to bring to justice a particularly dangerous adversary. This is what we have to do.” Quickly she outlined her plan.
Madeline’s gaze probed her face. “You know who is behind the murders.”
“I think I do. I hope to know for certain in a short while. Will you help us?”
Madeline’s gaze strayed to her baby. “If it were anyone else asking me, I would most likely have to decline. I know, however, that you would not ask if there was any other way. Don’t worry, Cecily. Together we will defeat the Christmas Angel.”
“It is a risky venture,” Cecily admitted, “but if we are all alert and on our toes I think we can bring this to a satisfactory conclusion.”
“It would seem so.” Again Madeline glanced at the cot. “I will have her nanny take Angelina over to her mother’s house until it is safe to bring her home.”
“That’s a good idea.” Cecily rose, prompting Samuel to jump to his feet. “Let us hope that this will soon be over.”
“I certainly hope so.” Madeline led them to the door. “We must be very careful, Cecily. This is a devious killer and a desperate one. There is nothing more dangerous.”
Cecily hugged her friend. “If all goes well, if we do this right, the villagers will sleep easier in their beds tonight.”
“Then let’s pray all goes well.”
That was all she was praying for, Cecily thought, as she stepped out into cold wind. For if things went badly, who knew what might happen.
Samuel followed her to the carriage, saying nothing until he handed her up onto her seat. “You think Caroline Blanchard is the Christmas Angel?”
Watching his face, Cecily felt sorry for him. “I’m afraid I do, Samuel. We will know for certain later this afternoon, but first we have to set the trap. Fetching my gown will give me the perfect excuse.”
“But how . . . why . . . I don’t understand.”
Cecily nodded. “Neither did I until this morning. Let’s hurry, Samuel. If this is going to work, we have to time it just right.”
“Yes, m’m.” Looking shaken, Samuel slammed the door shut and climbed up onto his seat.
Cecily leaned back, feeling worried. Everything depended on Samuel behaving as naturally as possible. Knowing how her manager had felt about Caroline, she hoped he was able to control his emotions.
Caroline seemed flustered when she opened the door. “Oh, Mrs. Baxter! Your gown is not quite ready! I have been quite busy lately. I was hoping to bring it over to you tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear.” Cecily stepped over the threshold, forcing the other woman to back away. “I was under the impression it would be ready today. Since I was passing by, I thought I would save you a journey to the Pennyfoot and pick it up myself.”
“That’s very kind of you, I’m sure, but—”
Cecily motioned to Samuel to follow her, though it was hardly necessary since her stable manager was practically falling over himself to get inside the door. “I’m sure there can’t be much more to do with the gown. We don’t mind waiting while you finish up on it, do we, Samuel.”
Samuel cleared his throat and in an unnaturally loud voice, said, “No, no, not at all.”
Caroline shot a look over her shoulder. “Well, I really wasn’t expecting company. The animals, you know. They’re all in the sitting room and I haven’t really had time to look in on them and make sure they’ve been behaving themselves, if you know what I mean.”
Cecily did know, and didn’t relish the prospect of walking in on a room reeking of cat urine. She made an effort to sound indifferent, however, when she answered. “Please, don’t fuss. We understand and we’ll be quite comfortable.”
Samuel’s expression contradicted her words, but she signaled him with a quick frown that she hoped he’d interpret.
Caroline looked none too pleased, but she led them to the sitting room and opened the door. “Can I fetch you a cup of tea?”
“Thank you, no.” Cecily smiled at her. “If you would finish the gown right away, I’ll be happy to pay you a little extra for your effort.”
“Then I shall see to it right away.” After one more doubtful look at both of them, she sped off in the direction of her sewing room.
“Better let me go first.” Samuel stepped into the room and looked around. He sounded relieved when he added, “Looks clean enough to me, m’m, though it smells a bit.”
Cecily followed him in and shooed a cat off the nearest chair. Several more stalked around the room, and a couple of dogs lifted their heads to scrutinize the visitors, then went back to snoozing by the fire.
“She likes her animals, doesn’t she,” Samuel observed, looking around the room. “I’ve never seen this many cats and dogs in one person’s house.” He bent over to stroke the nearest dog—a large black animal with only one ear. “She must love animals a lot.”
“Yes,” Cecily said quietly. “I’m sure she does.”
“I just can’t believe she—”
“Shshh!” Cecily put a finger over her lips.
Samuel snapped his mouth shut.
Giving him a warning look, Cecily said loudly, “It must be comforting to have so many animals around when one lives on her own, like Miss Blanchard.”
Taking his cue from her, Samuel straightened. “I’m sure it is.”
Still talking, Cecily moved over to the sideboard and pulled out one of the drawers. She shuffled through the contents and, finding nothing, she closed the drawer and opened another.
She found what she was looking for in the third drawer. Moving a stack of envelopes aside, she caught a glimpse of glittering gold. Carefully, she picked up one of the small gold stamps and held it out to Samuel. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “The signature of the Christmas Angel.”
Samuel stared at her. “I just can’t believe it!”
“Shshh!” Cecily held up a warning finger. Crossing the room to the empty chair, she sat down. “She can’t know we suspect her. Be very careful what you say and how you say it.”
Samuel looked as if he wanted to cry, but he nodded and bent down again to stroke the dog.
The sound of a door closing alerted Cecily. “Samuel, just listen to everything I say, and don’t interrupt or contradict.” She had no time to say more, as the door opened and Caroline entered, carrying the gown over her arm.
“Here it is, Mrs. Baxter.” She held up the shimmering gown. “I hope it is satisfactory.”
“I’m quite sure it will be.” Cecily bent down to pat the black dog on the head. “This is a fine animal.”
Caroline handed the gown to Samuel, who now sat poker-faced and silent. “Yes, he is. I found him wandering around the streets in Wellercombe. Poor thing was nothing but skin and bones when I found him.”
“Well, he certainly looks healthy enough now.” Cecily stood, and Samuel jumped to his feet. “We must be off. We have a very important appointment this afternoon.”
Caroline looked as if she was unsure how to answer that.
Ignoring her, Cecily continued, “I noticed the other day that wheel on the wall in your dressing room. I assume you are interested in the occult?”
Caroline shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I have a passing interest, that’s all.”
“Ah, I see.” Cecily moved closer to the door. “Then you must have heard of my friend Mrs. Madeline Prestwick?”
The seamstress seemed unsettled by the question. “I have heard talk of her, yes.”
“Most people consider her a witch, you know.”
Samuel had his back to Caroline, which was fortunate, since an agonized look crossed his face.
Cecily ignored him and smiled at Caroline, who looked just as aghast. “I’m sure—” she began, but Cecily interrupted her.
“She does have remarkable powers. In fact, she has promised to use them to help me find the Christmas Angel.”
Caroline’s face turned ashen. She seemed unable to turn her gaze from Cecily’s face, but felt behind her for the arm of a chair before falling down on it.
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